


War and Pissed - Drunken Hands - One Shot

by VexedBeverage



Series: Drunken Hands [10]
Category: Hat Films - Fandom, Hatfilms, The Yogscast
Genre: M/M, NSFW, drunken hands universe, smornby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 16:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5504108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VexedBeverage/pseuds/VexedBeverage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between 'On the rocks' and Chapter 8 of the original fic. The hatfilms guys are living together in their shared house and have not yet joined the yogscast in the office. </p><p>Some run up to Christmas fluff that really doesn't have much of a point to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War and Pissed - Drunken Hands - One Shot

Smith giggled as he pulled Ross towards the door. “Come on, it’s really starting to get to him!” 

Ross smirked and threw a look over his shoulder at the room Smith had literally just dragged him out of to ensure that Trott was not in the corridor watching them. 

Smith barrelled into the room and pulled his jumper over his head in a quick movement, holding it out to Ross who was stuck in his own, head covered as he struggled out of the arms in his drunken state. Turning, Smith pulled at the jumper, freeing him of its hold and grinning at the flustered look on Ross’ face. 

“Quick!” Ross giggled thrusting his jumper at Smith and shoving his arms into the one Smith had just pulled off himself. 

“Go, go, go!” Smith urged as soon as he finished smoothing the jumper down over his chest, reaching out to slap at Ross’ behind to get him moving. 

The two men arrived back into the main room where most of the Yogscast were hanging out and managed to casually lean against the wall before Trott came back into the room. 

“Alright Trott?” Smith asked, smirking at the smaller man who looked him and Ross over with narrowed eyes. 

“I fucking hate you two sometimes.” Trott said, looking towards Katie for backup. 

“That’s not much in the Christmas spirit, is it Ross?” Smith said, the shit eating grin still stretched across his face. 

“Bit rude.” Ross agreed with a smirk of his own. 

“You two keep switching jumpers every time I leave the room to mess with me!” 

Smith shook his head and looked towards Katie. “Katie, is this or is this not the jumper I came in wearing tonight?” 

Katie’s eyes widened as she realised she was being pulled in to support Smith’s trolling. 

Trott spoke before she had a chance to contribute. “It may well be the jumper you came in wearing but it isn’t the one you were wearing five minutes ago.” The shorter man insisted. 

Ross threw an arm around Trott’s shoulders. “Maybe you’re just losing it mate? Too much whiskey.” 

Trott narrowed his eyes at Smith and Ross in turn before pushing Ross away from him and leaving the group to get another drink. 

“One day,” Katie said, looking Smith dead in the eye. “He is going to do something to retaliate and I hope to everything I hold dear that I am there to see it when it happens.” With a sweet smile, the red head skipped away to talk to Hannah. 

**********

The night wore on in a haze of alcohol, games and shouted conversation until slowly, one by one, the office emptied as people made their way home. 

Alex slammed through the front door ahead of Ross, Trott having gone back to Katie’s for the night. “This place is shit!” Alex exclaimed as he tripped his way into the living room. “Why haven’t we put up any decorations yet?” 

Ross stumbled towards the sofa, collapsing onto it. “We need to do it soon.” He agreed. “If we want to do a Christmas unboxing.” 

Alex smirked at him. “Let’s do it now!” 

Ross shook his head. “It’s half three in the morning Smith.” 

“I’ll make it worth your while.” Alex winked at him. 

Ross barked a laugh. “I really don’t think there is anything you can possibly do that could convince me to move right now.” He answered, leaning his head back against the sofa and closing his eyes. 

Alex raised his eyebrows, accepting the challenge he threw himself into the seat next to Ross. Leaning over, Alex wet his lips and whispered into the dark haired man’s ear, careful not to make any physical contact. “Once we’re done with the decorating, we have the whole house to ourselves.” 

Ross shivered at the sensation of warm breath washing over his ear and the suggestion in Alex’s tone of voice, trying not to react. “No.” He answered, voice surprisingly even. 

Alex scooted closer, their bodies a hair breadth apart. “No?” He questioned, hand reaching out to rest on the other man’s thigh. “You don’t want me on my knees for you? Shouting yourself hoarse with your fingers buried in my hair?” Alex bit his lip to try and control the smirk on his face as a rosy tinge crept up Ross’ neck onto his face. Leaning back, Alex slid his hand back off Ross’ leg, his voice returning to its normal volume and tone. “Or, we could just go to bed, be totally boring and let this whole opportunity pass us by.” 

Ross took a shaky breath through his nose and turned his head to lock eyes with Alex, pupils blown wide. “You are actually Satan.” He croaked back at him.

With his shit eating grin back in place, Alex jumped up from his seat and offered a hand to Ross to pull him up. 

**********

“Have you seen the star?” Smith asked, emptying the last couple of items out of the large box. 

Ross shook his head, pushing the last of the drawing pins into the ceiling to hang the final Santa in place. “Didn’t Trott smash it when he took the tree down last year?” 

“We can’t have a tree without something on top.” Smith insisted, gesturing to the tree. “It looks stupid without it.” 

Ross nodded in agreement, coming to stand next to him. “We could go buy one tomorrow or we could try making something?” 

“I’ll go get some more drinks.” Smith said grabbing up his empty glass. “You figure out how to make an angel.” He ordered, stumbling towards the kitchen. 

Ross sighed, walking over to boot up his computer, opening up google and tapping on the keyboard and scrolling through the results until Smith returned, sloshing neat whiskey around in the two large glasses. “We can put Trott’s face on it!” Smith grinned, pointing to the screen showing a faceless angel made of a few pieces of plain paper. 

The whiskey carried on flowing as the two men giggled their way through finding picture of their friend, putting their favourites onto a blank document for further consideration. 

Surprisingly, it was Smith who lost interest first, his eyes darted over the dark haired man next to him in contemplation before reaching out to run a hand up Ross’ jean clad thigh. 

Ross didn’t even look up as Smith scooted his chair closer to him and blew a stream of air over his neck before leaning forward to place an open mouthed kiss on sensitive skin. 

Smith threw the other man a dark look, not impressed with his lack of reaction. Pushing his chair back, Smith stood and sidestepped so he could stand behind Ross’ chair. “Come to bed with me.” He whined, bending over to rest his head on Ross’ shoulder. 

“I just want to find that picture from Reddit from the other day.” Ross said, not letting his eyes leave the screen.

Smith made a noise in the back of his throat, a low growl that caused the hairs on the back of Ross’ neck to stand on end. 

Warm hands ghosted over Ross’ chest, reaching for the hem of his T shirt and snaking under to run over his stomach and sides. 

Smith nosed Ross’ cheek to turn his head so he could tease skin with tongue and teeth. One hand left his chest to trace intricate patterns on the inside of his thigh. 

A long moan escaped the dark haired man, his breaths coming in shallow pants. “Fuck, Smith.” He breathed out as the other man sucked on his pulse point. 

“Bed time?” Smith asked, voice low and gravelly in Ross’ ear. 

“Yes.” Ross hissed back, slamming a couple of buttons on the keyboard to print the images they had collecting and shutting the machine down. 

Smith stepped back, letting Ross turn and stand, mouths connecting in a heated kiss as soon as the two men were face to face. 

Stairs were a bit of an issue as they tried to stay connected by the lips, having to give up when Ross stumbled, almost pushing Smith down the stairs in his effort not to fall. 

Words became moans as Smith shoved Ross up against the wall and attacked the other man’s neck with his teeth. Ross bucked against him, pushing Smith until he stumbled backwards, falling to the bed with an audible ‘oof’.

Ross wasted no time stripping himself of his T shirt and jeans, crawling up the bed to pull Smith’s shirt off before their mouths connected again with a clash of teeth. 

Smith lifted his hips as Ross pulled at his still fastened jeans, forcing them down passed the other man’s hips and throwing them across the room. 

The world spun as Smith pushed at Ross, flipping their positions so that the dark haired man was on his back, Smith straddling one of his thighs. 

Ross’ hand tangled in wavy locks as they rutted against each other, Smith’s hand running over overheated skin, a scorching trail working its way down his torso before probing fingers worked inside his boxers. 

Ross pushed himself up on an outstretched arm, burying his face in Smith’s shoulder as he moaned his name and wrapped his free hand around Smith’s length.

The pace was frantic as each man thrust into the others hand with jerky movements. 

Smith came first, spilling over Ross’ hand and thigh, biting down on his lip scrunching his eyes closed against the blissful numbness that was coursing through his body. 

Ross wiped his hand on the bed before placing it on top of Smith’s which had ceased moving as he unloaded onto Ross, and encouraged Smith to keep moving, guiding him. 

It was a few moments before Smith came back to himself, with a smirk at the slack jawed look on Ross’ face he redoubled his efforts. “Come for me Sweetheart.” He hissed into the other man’s ear, and Ross did just that. Broken voice shouting up to the ceiling.

**********

The morning dawned much too bright for Ross’ liking; neither man had thought to close the curtains the night before and it was unseasonably sunny for the beginning of December. 

Ross winced against the aching in his back from spending the night curled around Smith, slipping out of the bed and rummaging in Smith’s chest of draws for some clothes. 

“I’m dying.” Smith grumbled, pulling the duvet up to cover his head against the stabbing brightness in the room. 

“You’re not dying.” Ross replied, pulling on a pair of boxers and one of Smith’s T shirts and sitting on the end of the bed to pull the duvet off Smith’s face. 

“I am dying.” Smith insisted. “And that’s fine. I only ask one thing.” He continued, throwing Ross a sorrowful look. “No flowers on my grave. I want hot wheels, and bacon.” 

Ross stared down at the other man who let out a fake feeble cough. “That is one of the most subtle ways I have ever heard you ask for me to cook you something.” 

Smith smiled, teeth flashing. “Does that mean you’ll do it?” He asked, batting his eyelids. 

Ross huffed and stood up, not answering verbally, instead just leaving the room to go downstairs. 

“Love you!” Smith called after him as he heard the kitchen door swing open with its distinctive creak.

“I didn’t say I was making you bacon!” Ross called back to the other man, the frying pan in his hand begging to differ as he pulled bacon from the fridge and turned the hob on. 

**********

Two cups of tea and a bacon sandwich later had Alex in a much better state as he admired their efforts from the night before. “Did you figure out how to make an angel?” He asked, unable to recall the tail end of their night. 

“Yeah.” Ross answered, standing to retrieve his faceless creation from his desk, handing it to the other man. “I printed some pictures for you to choose the face.” He added, gesturing in the general direction of where the printer was situated. 

Alex turned the angel over in his hands as he walked over to snatch up the pictures. “Ross?” 

“What?”

“How many pictures did you find?” Alex asked eyeing the full out tray where at least twenty sheets lay. 

“Five or six, I put them all on the same page.” The other man replied as he thumbed through his phone. 

Alex lifted the pile of paper, flipping through to find each page identical. “I think you might have used a whole cartridge on this.” 

Ross looked over at the other man, confusion plain on his face. “It’s only a couple of pictures.” 

Alex held up the papers with a smirk. 

**********

Trott’s revenge for the tiny pictures of his own face all over the house that he was still finding almost two weeks later, was not exactly going to plan. 

“Jesus Smith! Can you please put some fucking clothes on?” The smaller man pleaded as he crossed Smith in the upstairs hallway, the taller man in nothing but his boxers. 

Alex raised his eyebrows at him and gave him a lopsided grin. “I thought this was what you wanted Trotty? Isn’t that why you took my bedroom door? So you could perv over me and Ross. Honestly I am just helping you fulfil all your dirty little fantasies mate.” 

Trott really should have known better with this ‘prank’ it was hurting him more than them. Ross had been embarrassed at first and insisted that he and Alex stayed in his room but Alex was having none of it, saying that if Trott wanted to get an eyeful then he wasn’t going to ruin it for him. 

Trott sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a moment. “Fine, I’ll put your fucking door back.” 

Alex grinned, pushing passed Trott to go down the stairs. “If you ever feel the need, you can always just come in and catch an eyeful when I’m in the shower.” He said winking down at the smaller man and smacking him on the rump before thundering down the stairs. 

**********

Ross woke slowly, his nose pressed against Smith’s shoulder as the taller man in front of him entwined their fingers and mumbled something that Ross couldn’t make out. “What?” Ross rumbled out, voice still heavy with sleep. 

Smith released his hand and groaned as he turned over to face him. “Why is the bedroom door open?” 

Ross licked at his dry lips and lifted his neck to glance at the door that he was positive he closed the night before. 

Smith blew a stream of air upwards to try and shift the lock of hair that had feel over his eye, narrowing his eyes when it fell right back in the same place. 

Ross’ hand ghosted over his jaw before raking through the sandy waves to move the hair, his thumb tracing Smith’s stubble as he brought his hand back down. “Thanks.” Smith smiled at him, eyes glinting in the morning light. 

Ross’ lips twitched into a smile in return as Smith’s warm hand snaked around his lower back, palm flat against his backside. “Someone woke up on the right side of the bed.” Ross muttered before pressing his lips against Smith’s in a long, closed mouthed kiss. 

Smith hummed against him, shuffling his body forwards to press against the other mans. “It’s always the right side of the bed when you’re in it with me.” 

Ross snorted a laugh through his nose and tilted his neck so he could look Smith in the eye without going cross eyed. “You soppy twat.” 

Smith growled at the back of his throat, pulling Ross’ leg over his hip so he could plant his knee between them. With more energy that Ross would have been able to muster, Smith then lurched upwards, outstretched arms either side of Ross’ head as the dark haired man was forced onto his back. “How’s this for soppy?” Smith asked, attacking Ross’ neck with kisses and gently pulling at skin with his teeth. 

Ross’ hands ran up bare thighs and cupped at Smith’s behind as his breathing became increasingly ragged. 

The front door slamming closed interrupted the steady heat building between the two men. Katie’s Scottish lilt carrying through the quiet of the house. “Shh! They’re probably still asleep, you need to sneak his keys back in.” 

Smith locked eyes with Ross below him. “What the fuck are they up to?”

“Your guess is as good as mine mate.” Ross answered, pushing at Smith to get him out from underneath him. 

Smith rolled to the side, falling to his back with a loud creak of the bed as Ross slid out from under the covers and made his way towards the door as it slowly opened the reveal Trott, Smith’s car keys in hand. 

A look of panic crossed the shorter man’s face. “Morning Ross!” He greeted, throwing the keys onto the desk quickly. “Going round Katie’s, bye!” He shouted before turning tail and rushing off, the front door slamming closed only a moment later with a shout to Katie of ‘leg it!’

Ross reached out and snatched up the keys, turning them over in his hands as he walked towards the window that overlooked the drive, eyes widening as he spotted the state of Smith’s beloved car.

Smith scrambled out of the bed as he caught Ross’ expression, striding over to the window and squinting down. 

Ross watched as Smith narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together in a thin line.

All of the windows had fake snow sprayed over them in a variety of expletives, tinsel wound around the areal and window wipers. From this distance it was hard to tell if the ‘balloons’ that filled the vehicle, squashed against the windows were in fact balloons or condoms. 

Smith snatched up his phone from the bedside table, opening a new message and typing a short message that Ross read over his shoulder. 

‘This means war, Trotty-boy.’


End file.
